Three AM
by purplemud
Summary: One Tree Hill Drabble Series Drabble 4 - Nathan Scott does not like to feel threatened. Naley and Chris Keller. Season 1 and 2
1. Lucas

**Three A.M. **  
by **Grace** (purplemud)  
**Summary**: Lucas is suffering from a severe writer's block.  
**Rating**: T/4  
**Pairing**: Bit of Leyton and Brucas, hints of Laley and Naley  
**Disclaimers**: Standard disclaimers apply. Me don't own.  
**Author's Note**: I'm still in Georgia and still quite busy with work, but I happen to unearth this little scribble and to make up for the late updates of How To and 23, here's a little something from me. I have like tons of OTH scribbles so maybe I can put them all in here.

**Spoilers**: Seasons 1 to 5.

**Lucas**

It's mocking him. The blank page. It's invisible accusing eyes is staring right back at him. You've lost it, it tells him silently and he has no reply to that. He can't even shake his head in denial. He's paralyzed by the realization that had come too little, too late.

There was a time when words wouldn't stop coming to him, wouldn't stop flowing and he was able to write a novella of a love poem. An extended chorus of a love song for the girl that had stolen his heart.

If only he knows who that girls is.

His heart does not know or does not care to share with him that particular information – maybe because he had betrayed it so many times, his own heart no longer trusts him.

His uncle Keith would be disappointed in him.

Frustrated, angry, lost, hopeless, he places his finger on the keyboard, stroking them gently, as though trying to coax the story out, letter by letter.

_It's the girl behind the red door. _

He types this slowly, his eyes following every space. He pauses, thinks about it and shakes his head. It can't be. It's a false claim. The girl behind the red door – if he had paid any attention during his teenage years, it wasn't even Brooke. It was Haley. He can still see it now: the Jameses front porch, the red door and Haley standing just behind it, giggling as she asks for the password.

"Mac and Cheese."

The door swings open and she smiles up at him, her brown eyes bright and innocent. She was seven. He was eight. She was everything he wanted. And he loved her as his sister. The only time he had briefly fallen in love with her was the night he had given her away to Nathan – that one second when he wished she could be his. But she belonged to Nathan and there was no way that he'd stand in the way of true love. So he told his new-found brother to take care of her and even though Nathan and Haley had experienced the agony of heartbreaks and betrayals, they never once faltered in their love for each other. He had been right to let go of her. That didn't mean that sometimes, he'd wonder about it once in a blue moon, when he gets so dangerously, utterly lonely and alone.

Lucas highlights the words and hits the delete key. No point dwelling on that. Besides, given the history of the Scott brothers, one brother deserves his happy ending. Nathan got it. No need to be envious about it.

Lucas sighs softly.

Well, hello, blank page. We meet again.

He lets out a derisive snort which is promptly echoed back by the same blank page that has been mocking him since seven in the morning. It's now three a.m. He had already lost one day. He's stinking. He hasn't eaten yet. He has been drinking coffee non-stop. His eyes are blurry and hot. His answering machine is pulsating with red light: his editors, most likely, wanting to know if there are any updates on his latest novel. There's no update. Except if he wants to report that he's been hallucinating, the blank page of his screen giving him pitiful looks and the occasional mocking stares. They wouldn't want to hear _that_.

Maybe his problem isn't that he didn't know how to tell the story. Maybe there isn't a story to tell. But that's depressing as hell. So he starts again. This time, he describes the bright comet of his life.

_Comets, they're not the most romantic thing. It's nothing but a brief flash of light in the darkness. If you miss it, it's gone. Until it comes back again after a hundred years._

Lucas leans back, squints his eyes. Lindsey had been right. Peyton is his comet. The first time she came into his life, he let her go. He'd have to wait again for another hundred of years to finally catch her. The wait is not an issue. For Peyton, he'd wait forever. But Lindsey still got it all wrong. He hadn't meant the car – how silly of him to have attributed his feelings for Peyton to a car – when he wrote the story. The car had been the symbol of Peyton's rebellion and he hadn't been attracted to that. What he had been attracted to was the fact that Peyton was something that he longed for, from a distance.

When he wrote about his comet, he was envisioning the real deal. And the problem with comets is that they aren't meant to stay in one place. If they do, they'd crash and burn. Peyton is exactly like that. Which is why he has come to accept that fact that he'll forever be looking up the sky, waiting for her, but he'd never, ever have her. Never.

That's the tragedy of his life. And Lucas is really tired of writing about tragedies. He wants to write something that is filled with light. Something that is precious. Something that is real. Something that isn't dark or brooding. Something that did not belong to him. Something that's a part of him.

He sadly erases the entry and starts all over again.

_Her favorite color is blue..._


	2. Nathan

**Three A.M. **  
by **Grace** (purplemud)  
**Summary**: Big game equals an insomniac Nathan and how exactly does Nathan deal with it? (Naley)  
**Rating**: T/4  
**Pairing**: Naley  
**Disclaimers**: Standard disclaimers apply. Me don't own.  
**Author's Note**: I'm still in Georgia and still quite busy with work, but I happen to unearth this little scribble and to make up for the late updates of How To and 23, here's a little something from me. I have like tons of OTH scribbles so maybe I can put them all in here.

**Spoilers**: Seasons 1 to 4.

**Nathan**

Two years ago, just about the same time, the night before a big game, he'd be out by their backyard, shooting hoops. He could never sleep and it was the only thing he could do. It's not nerves. He's never been nervous about a game. _Ever_.

Well, _okay_, maybe his first real game, but never after that. He knew the game well enough to be confident that he'd get through it, conquer everyone, everything. Although never his father. Or at least the ever looming shadow of his father.

Maybe it was the reason why he'd always end up doing endless free throws in the middle of night, with no one watching him, taking down notes and giving him suggestions or criticisms – depending on who's keeping track of how many consecutive basketballs made it into the basket.

And more than that, it was peaceful and calm out there, no noise from the crowd. No jeering. No shrill screams. No one calling or chanting his name like it's some sort of mantra. He'd been yelled at so many times, he was beginning to like this kind of silence. The kind that is only broken by his own even breathing, the sound of the basketball slapping against concrete. The staccato slap, slap, slap surrounding him. It's a familiar sound, he'd heard it all of his life. In fact, if pressed, he'd admit that his first ever real memory is watching his father dribbling that big orange ball all around the house.

It's a lonely sound, actually. But he never noticed it before. Never realized that it was the echo if his own heart. But really, how could he? He wasn't the kind of guy who'd think about such things. There was only one thing he cared about and that was winning and to win, you gotta get the ball in - as Tim had so often told him.

Nights like that, he remembered it in great detail: he'd let the ball skim the palm of his hand, slap it with just the right amount of force - the movement controlled and precise – born out of years and hours of endless practice. He'd pause for a moment, visualize the shot inside his head before he'd bend his knee, flex his wrist, take a deep breath and then finally let go of the ball. It would go flying in. And it's all instinct. Even with the fading, barely there light, he'd always get a nice, clean shot. Nothing but net. Perfect. And he can do this in his sleep, too.

But no matter how beautiful, how graceful the arch is, he was never satisfied. Nothing satisfied him. Not the big house and the privileges bestowed upon the son of a local basketball hero, all the adulation and praises he'd get for being a local high school basketball hero in the making. The attention - maybe even affection - that he craved from his parents that he so easily got from friends and school mates and the endless girls who'd stare at him, battling their eyelashes, always touching him, always willing and ready to answer to his every whim. All of those - it meant not nothing of course, but at the same time, it didn't mean _anything. _

On nights like that, the things that should make him feel proud or happy, they all felt phony. Even his relationship with the hottest girl in school seemed more like a day time soap opera that everyone in their school would scrutinize and talk about. Sometimes, even winning a game is not enough. Because one win is just _that_ and he needs (wants?) to win it all, even though at the back of his mind, he knew that it wasn't possible. But to lose was also simply unacceptable.

No. It wasn't nerves that kept him up all night, all those times. It was anger. It was seething, helpless frustration at the realization, the brutal truth of his life: everything is planned around basketball season, the tournaments he had to play - high school, college, after college - it will never end and he'd always be spending the rest of his life shooting basket after basket, after basket, angry at himself, angry at his father, angry at his destiny.

When he met her, that changed. Everything changed.

Nathan feels her breath against his skin. Her eyes are closed. Her lips slightly parted. An innocent, silent invitation that's enough to fill him with warmth all the way down to the base of his spine. Her brown hair is tousled, curling against her shoulder blades that he wants so desperately to kiss but she looks too precious, too vulnerable, so he keeps his distance, afraid to disturb her peaceful slumber.

He loves watching her sleep. Every time he does this, he'd fall in love with her all over again. Every night, every morning. That's how he knew it. That's how he understood what it feels to love. To really, _really_ love. The kind that even her softest sighs would _always _make his heart ache in ways he never thought was possible.

And he likes that kind of ache too. It's painful but it makes everything real, because sometimes, he'd find himself wondering if he's just dreaming, if he just conjured her up: the perfect girl, his wife.

How could he have gotten so blessed to have Haley as his wife?

_His_ wife.

It still surprises him and that the little jolt of pleasant surprise, well, he likes that too.

There wouldn't be a day in his life when he'd ever stop wondering if he's good enough for her. Maybe someday. After all, it has been proven how positive an influence Haley had been in his life. He'll keep on trying to be the best and _only _guy for her. He'll work hard on that, because he knows that he's capable of doing really stupid things, things that could drive her away from him and this scares him shitless. Scares him like he's never before but he's going to do everything he can to keep her because if he lose Haley, he'd be lossing everything.

And he'd never let that happen.

Haley shifts in her sleep, curling around herself, her closed fist resting against her chest. He glances down at her hand, sees the wedding ring on her finger and an overwhelming sense of completeness fills him. His heart aches a little bit more and he feels his lips curling up.

"What are you smiling about?"

Startled by the sleepy voice breaking the silence, Nathan lazily reaches out to pull her in his arms and Haley immediately settles into him, her body pressed against him. Warm and gentle, her scent surrounding him. He tightens his hold on her, nuzzling his nose against her neck before finally dropping his head and sucking on that shoulder blade he had been fantasizing about just seconds ago.

"Nothin'." He murmurs the word against her skin and he hears her sighing softly, angling her head so he could better access her –

"Nathan, it's three in the morning." Haley informs him in a gently chiding voice.

Well, maybe she needed to check the time first before giving him better access to the graceful arch of her neck. "Can't sleep. Big game tomorrow."

She pulls away a little, meeting his eyes. "Don't you mean later tonight?"

He chuckles softly, his hands going underneath her shirt, palm resting against the small of her back, his thumb tracing her tattoo. The soft sigh she's making tells him that she's enjoying the attention. He already knows that though. If he lets his fingernails ever so light graze her skin, she'd start purring like a playful little kitten. He does it just to hear her and she doesn't disappoint him.

His wife is fucking sexy as hell.

Nathan moves his hand higher, following the line of her spine. He hasn't mapped out her whole body yet, but he remembers all her senstive parts. He has it catalogue inside his head.

"Mmmhhhhmm," Haley half purrs, half moans. "I've wondered about that, you know," she tells him, stretching against him, pushing her chest against him. "Why you're suddenly turned into an insomniac every time there's a," she pauses to wiggle out of his embrace, "big game." She states this with air quotes, which he finds ridiculously cute.

"Old habit." Nathan quickly states, but he pauses after a second, reconsidering this statement. Grinning at her, he raises his eyebrow, meeting her eyes. "Well, _new_ old habit."

Haley mimics his raised eyebrows. Intrigued by his statement. She likes to play coy too, so she doesn't ask him outright. Instead, she re-wraps her arms around him, inching her face closer. Close enough to tempt him silly into kissing her.

Nathan holds back, or tries to. Not sure how long he can keep himself from literally jumping her.

"You aren't feeling nervous, are you?" Haley asks, her fingers weaving through his short hair. For some strange reason, she finds his hair fascinating. And Nathan sure isn't complaining.

"'Course not." He answers smugly before bending his head and gently nipping at the skin just beneath her collar bone. Haley arches her back, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him down so he's half sprawled on top of her.

"Then why are you still up? You should be getting as much rest as you can."

"''M busy." Nathan is mumbling the words as he keeps dropping little kisses all across her exposed skin.

He hears her soft snort, which is also cute, by the way. "Doing what?" Her playful, half-sleepy voice is even cuter.

"Watching you sleep." He tells her matter of factly. It's the truth anyway, he isn't just trying to please her or anything like that. So what if it sounds incredibly sappy and pansy-assed, he'll never get tired of seeing her face when she's asleep. She looks impossibly younger, her features gentler, fuller and it he feels as thought he's seeing a part of her that only the people closest to her have seen and will ever get to see.

Counting her family, it's a pretty short list. Just him and Lucas, probably. Although Lucas would have probably missed admiring her the way he would often admire her. Not that Lucas should, by the way.

Haley scrunches up her face, twisting her lips a little. A small displeased pout. "Why?"

Ah, always the curious little cat. Or bobcat. His Haley bobcat. He's pleased with the new nickname he has for her. He'll save it for later and see how she reacts to that. Haley doesn't want to be called "cute". She thinks being called that is tantamount (tantamount, being her exact term) to comparing her to a puppy. She refuses to aknowledge that in some ways, she is just like a puppy. Totally adorable.

"I'm a tiger." She told him once, crawling on top of him as he lay sprawled on the bed. She then pounced on him and of course, since this is Haley, promptly falls off the bed. He remembered his heart stopping and jumping into his throat, afraid that she had hurt herself. He had quickly jumped down and found her clutching at her side, giggling like crazy. Adorable. Nathan isn't sure why Haley can't see that.

"He-looo Nathan." Haley is tugging at the waistband of his boxers and this is enough to snap him back to attention.

"'Cause I want to." He answers in a gravelly, dark voice.

Haley smirks at him. "That's not a good reason, Nathan." She tells him this, in wife-y tone, letting go of his boxers and smiling in satisfaction at the audible snapping sound as garter met skin. "You'll be tired later." Haley continues, not missing a beat, ignoring the predatory look Nathan is sure he's already wearing. "I don't want you being a sleepy, slow poke on the court. It's not fun cheering for you when you aren't all sweaty."

Returning the smirk she had just given him, Nathan deftly twists his body, turning them over so she's completely underneath him with just a blink of an eye. "Slow poke, huh?"

Haley giggles as he starts ticking her. "Na-Nathan, s-s-stop." Her laughter fills the room, echoing all around him.

Smiling at the sound of her laughter, Nathan leans down, the tip of their noses almost touching. Haley looks up into his eyes as he cups her face, tilting it up. "I'm busy watching you sleep and falling in love with you all over again."

Haley flushes and he feels the heat rising off from her body. "Ah. You're being charming. You must want something."

Pressing into her hips, his hands sliding from her back, into her side and resting on her abdomen. "Hales, baby, I love how well you know me."

"Nathan, hello, you're a _guy_." She tells him rolling her eyes, "You aren't that hard to figure out and, you're not exactly being subtle." The last part was mumbled shyly and she's so adorable when she gets like this. Before he can say something to rile her up, she beat him to it, reminding him that, "We can't. Not before a big game. Don't want to tire you out." Haley looks serious enough, but Nathan can clearly see the mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"I think I can still manage to win the game tonight." He answers with a shrug.

"Confident much?" She winks up at him, wiggling and moving her body against him.

Nathan flashes Haley a feral, little grin. "Oh, you know it."

Haley beams up at him as she wraps her legs around his waist. Nathan immediately groans out loud. Although he loves bantering with Haley, he loves kissing her more. And without any warning, he crushes his lips against her, surprising her a little. The little "O" of surprise is enough to grant his tongue access into her mouth and he kisses her with everything he has, everything he's feeling for her right now. The love. The need. The want. The burning, burning desire.

Nathan pulls back when the pain in his lung has become too unbearable. He rests his forehead against her, watching as Haley lazily smiles up at him, running her tongue against her swollen-kissed lips, her eyes still closed. "Mhhhmm."

"Hales." His voice cracks at the intensity of his feelings but he doesn't care. He wants her now, so bad.

She slowly opens her brown eyes, alight with passion and love – all for him, all because of him and Nathan feels as though he has won _the_ game.

"Well, since you're already, uhm, _up_…" Nathan eagerly moves for another kiss but Haley stops him, "But if you get yelled at by Whitey tonight at the game, you don't get to blame me."

Chuckling softly, Nathan shakes his head before moving to cradle Haley's head, weaving his fingers on her hair, his thumb resting against her cheeks. He feels his heart madly dancing inside his chest and he can bet that she feels it too. The smile she's giving him confirms it. He drops a small, sweet, chaste kiss on her cheeks and then on her forhead before finally moving into her mouth, asking her softly, wanting her, needing her to know. "Do you know how much I love you?"

Haley's eyes darken as she bites her lips. "Show me." Haley tells him in a low, smoky voice.

And Nathan didn't need another invitation.

Gently kissing her, Nathan thinks this is so much better than shooting baskets alone in the backyard.

-end-


	3. Haley

**Three A.M.  
**by **Grace** (purplemud)  
**Summary**: She blinks up at him, realizing that she's said too much. She wasn't supposed to confess this to him. Nathan will ask why and she'd have to explain it all and Haley just… she couldn't! It's too personal. Too raw. (Naley)  
**Rating**: T/4  
**Pairing**: Naley  
**Disclaimers**: Standard disclaimers apply. Me don't own.  
**Author's Note**: An old scribble I've discovered. I didn't know where else to put it, so I tweaked it a little bit and now it sorts of fits here. Season one Naley. It's un-beta-ed. The verb tenses are all wrong. I'd have to clean it up soon. Gosh, I truly need a beta.

**Haley**

She doesn't know what time it is exactly. But it's late. That's for sure. She looks up at their darkened house and for a brief moment, she sees it in her head: Taylor's bedroom, slightly opened, a thin film of smoke wafting outside.

Haley sniffs gently. She recognizes the smell of burned and burning paper. If she closes her eyes, she'd be able to hear the sound of paper singing as Taylor sucks on her cigarette. Bad habit had always been Taylor's weakness.

But the smell isn't from her sister's room. It's from her dress. The new one she had just brought. She liked it because it's the same shade as Nathan's eyes. Of course, it clashes horribly with her hair and some girl from the party had not so politely mentioned this to her.

It's the same tall girl who had been smoking Marlboro mediums, looking down at her, blowing perfect circles directly at her. She had watched as the smoke swirled before them, rising up, soaking them, the scent sticking to her hair.

She had moved away, but the girl followed her. "So, _you're_ Nathan Scott's girlfriend?"

The question was laced with so many layers of sarcasm and viciousness. And maybe even a hint of sincere bewilderment. Although, Haley pauses, wondering, can girls like them actually know how to be sincere? Because, the girl reminded her of Taylor, well, every girl at the party tonight reminded of her sister, and her sister wasn't really fond of sincerity. Sincerity for her is something she would sharpen until it became physically hurtful.

_"Oh my God, Haley, you got to stop hanging out with the losers. It is so tiring every time I have to tell everyone that you aren't my sister!"_

Haley sighs, confused by the sudden direction of her thoughts. It isn't often that she'd find herself thinking of Taylor, who she guesses, is currently, at this very moment, somewhere she isn't supposed to be at Friday night – well, no, Saturday early pre-dawn two-fifty-five something in the morning – nope, her sister will not be in her college dorm back in UNC. Definitely.

Or if she is indeed somewhere within the UNC campus, Taylor would also be looking up, trying to figure out a way to climb in on, hopefully, what she thinks as her dorm room. If she hadn't already climbed in, that is. After all, Taylor had years of practice sneaking in this way.

This is Haley's first attempt at sneaking in. But hey, she's a James. All the James girls had done this at some point in their lives. Viv, Quinn, Taylor. It's her turn now. Of course, she's neither tall, nor graceful. And you can forget about being athletic. But she's determined to do this.

Haley takes a deep breath, mutters a few quick encouraging words, lightly patting the trunk of the old tree planted right next to her bedroom wall. She isn't sure what sort this tree is. Maple, maybe?

It's in bloom right now, and during the afternoons, whenever Lucas would come and see her, he'd always comment on the bloody, red leaves all over their lawn. Haley had always loved this tree, as did her sisters. It was, as time had proven, a very sturdy, reliable tree.

She stands on her toes and stretches her arms, awkwardly jumping before her fingers could find something she can clutch on.

Okay, that wasn't all that hard. Neither was it embarrassing. All is good. Puffing and grunting a little, Haley admits that the trick is to look like you know exactly what you're doing. She pulls herself up, scattering crushed leaves and broken little twigs upon her wake.

Her father will discover this come morning; he'll look up and think, "Well, well, is Taylor home?" Jimmy would never think that it's his little Haley Bop who had been out on a night of under aged debauchery.

"Debauch what?' Nathan asks, glancing worriedly up at her.

Oh _crap_. That's right. He's actually behind her, is actually the reason why she'd actually gotten this high up the tree without having any sort of difficulty and or panic attack.

Nathan had promised that he wouldn't let her fall and she believes him. He is the sweetest guy ever. Luke would probably not agree and a few months back, she would've definitely thought that only the truly demented would think of Nathan Scott as sweet. But things have changed.

"Hales?" He asks again, looking up at her.

He is so beautiful, Haley thinks. Blue eyes so blue and intense. Strong jaws. Perfect cheek bones. Amazing eyebrows. Cute chin. And God, that sexy mouth of his. If she had been as vain as Taylor, she would be so goddamned insecure at how beautiful her boyfriend is.

_Boyfriend_.

Haley slowly smiles. Gently, sincerely, she shyly murmurs, "You are so beautiful."

Nathan's lips curls up in a gentle, amused smirk, "Thanks James, but I'd rather you tell me that when you're not drunk."

"Am not drunk!" She protests loudly as Nathan's eyebrows goes up. He moves towards her, his body almost covering hers, tall and strong, hard planes and sinewy muscles. She feels him pressing against her as he places a finger against her lips. The universal signal to hush the eff-up.

She beams at him, nods her head in understanding as Nathan gives her another lift, carefully pushing her into her opened bedroom window, his hands ever so gently ghosting over her thighs. She shivers and giggles a little at that.

"Hales…" Nathan starts, his voice a clear warning.

"Okay, okay, keeping quiet now." She mumbles, the huge, stupid smile still plastered on her face. Nathan doesn't have to know, but she has the key, of course. But this – this sneaking in, it is more romantic.

And Nathan thinks – would think? – that this climbing into her bedroom at three in the morning, is exciting and thrilling. Dangerous.

See, she can be daring too.

She had never done this before: climbing the tree to get to her room. Had she mentioned that? Well, Haley would like to point that out once again. FYI: First time. And she's quickly finding out, that for Nathan Scott, she's willing to do so many things she had never thought she'd ever do. Like hanging around basketball practice, watching and wanting to watch him do all those jump shots without his shirt on, making out on empty classrooms, or, like tonight, going to one of those ritzy, exclusive villages where all the McMansions are, partying and drinking, mingling with the sons and daughters of Tree Hill elite club, members only society: the rich and the incredibly petty and insensitive and annoying…

That particular list inside her head had significantly grown after tonight.

And it was all her fault.

Nathan hadn't wanted to come. Had even told her that he wasn't interested. But Haley had thought that he just didn't want to go because it wasn't her thing. And it wasn't. But still, she wanted to share his life – because isn't that what boyfriends and girlfriends do? – and if that would include a few parties here and there, well, she didn't think it'll hurt to attend this one time.

"Hales, be careful!" Nathan suddenly hisses, his voice clearly on the edge as she half crawls, half throws herself on her opened window.

Haley tries to squirm her way in, slightly bumping her head against the window. She hears Nathan curse underneath his breath and this sets her off in a giggling spree of sort.

"Nathan, hey, Nathan. I think I remember where the key is now. Let's get down."

"Wha-? No, Haley, we're already here. You're already half way inside your room. Just wiggle in a little bit more."

Nathan's voice has turned serious. No longer playful. Haley pouts a little at the frustrated tone and she remembers an offhanded comment she heard earlier tonight. She feels the familiar gnawing of insecurities settling somewhere at the pit of her stomach. "I can't fit. I'm fat!"

"You aren't fat." Nathan quickly assures her, giving her a helpful boost. "Try twisting your body this way…"

She feels his hand on her hips, guiding her. She grudgingly does as she's told. Grumbling mutinously, Haley starts to move her lower body, taking care not get her dress snagged on the corners of her window. But her concentration is suddenly broken as she becomes aware of the warmth of Nathan's body, pressed so close to her. She feels the heat of him radiating against her back and as she moved her body. She hears his breath suddenly hitching, the expelled air tickling her neck through her hair.

Nathan starts cursing again. "Jesus, okay, stop. Stop wiggling. Bad idea."

There's something in Nathan's voice, one she hasn't heard before. Darker. Smoky. Heavier. More... Haley isn't sure what, just that he isn't angry – 'cause she knows exactly how he sounds when he's mad. Haley frowns, wondering why Nathan is suddenly breathing erratically, his hand gripping her waist, trying to still her movements. She tries to turn around but Nathan stops her, leaning his forehead against her neck.

"Hales," Nathan half groans, half pleads. "God, stop. Just stay still for a sec, okay? Or we're both going to fall off this tree."

"You said you wouldn't let me fall!" She hissed at him, trying to stay as still as she can, listening to Nathan breathe through his nose. Wrinkling her forehead, she wonders briefly if she can shift her weight a little. His cellphone was pressing unto her back.

"Yes I did." Nathan's voice is slightly off, but the familiar playfulness was back, "I just didn't think it was possible to be, I mean up on a tree, Jesus, Haley, you don't know what you do to me."

Huffing loudly, Haley glares at him. What is he talking about? She couldn't understand him and she wasn't sure if it was because she was a little bit drunk or if Nathan was trying to not make her understand him. Which was in itself, confusing enough. Ugh!

After a few seconds of silence, Haley mournfully blurts out. "I can't fit in my own bedroom window! This is ridiculous." She feels her eyes narrowing, remembering the many nights Taylor would easily jump into her room, smelling all sorts of sweet and musky and her sister would always mockingly ask her, "_Hey, little Hales, great party huh?"_

Annoyed, Haley snorts loudly. "How the hell does Taylor do this?" And then, remembering the vapid little sneer that one of those nameless girls had given earlier, Haley irritably declares: "Oooh, I hate her!"

"Who?" She could sense the confused wrinkling of Nathan's forehead, he always does that when he's trying to figure out the answer to one of her many practice tests.

Angrily huffing out a puff of air, Haley grits her teeth. "One of those blonde cheerleaders," She pauses, glaring into the night, "but wait, aren't they all blonde and just perfect?" She's aware of the seething tone in her voice but she couldn't stop herself.

"I wouldn't know." Nathan casually replies, the unconcerned shrug of his shoulder angering Haley even more.

She turns and glares at Nathan, forgetting that they are very dangerously teetering a few feet off the ground. "Now you're just lying!" She furiously tells him through her gritted teeth.

"What? Haley, what are you talking about?" Nathan replies with a grunt, giving her one final, gentle nudge.

Haley ungracefully stumbles inside, her elbow hitting the floor with a soft thud that echoed inside her room. She closes her eyes, gritting her teeth. Oh, God, please don't let my parents come barging in on us – and me, most especially me – lying curled up on the floor, with Nathan peering from the bedroom window.

Her parents will torment her with this for the rest of her life!

She lets out a sigh of relief when the only noise she hears is Nathan's surprised gasp followed by an impressive string of curses. No doors banging open. No Jimmy and Lydia making snide, improper comments. God still loves her!

Haley vaguely hears Nathan shuffling inside her room but she's suddenly distracted by the pain that flared up her arms. Her fear of her parents walking in on them and embarrassing her for life, in front of Nathan no less had been so great, she had momentarily blocked out the pain. Now, though, it's back with a vengeance. Like in a, remember me, bitch, kind of way.

"Ow!" Haley darkly mutters, rolling unto her back, cradling her arm, the tangled mess of her hair half covering her face. She can feel her skirt riding up her thigh. She must look really, really stupid now.

Nathan, ever agile and strong and capable, is already by her side (how the hell does he do that?! So unfair!) quickly placing his huge hand around her waist, pulling her up against his chest. His hand is so warm. And calloused and so... manly.

Haley suddenly feels funny. Like hot, heart slamming against her chest, funny.

"I am so sorry, Haley. Are you okay? Where does it hurt?" Nathan urgently whispers as he runs his lovely, strong hands along her sides, gently gliding up just a few inches beneath her breast before finding the insides of her arm, then her elbow; his fingers trailing a delicious line of fire against her skin. "I'm so stupid. I'm sorry, I thought you… I didn't mean to push you… I didn't push you did, I? I mean, crap, let me see you hands."

And while Nathan is profusely apologizing, sounding almost like he's about to cry, Haley can feel her skin tingling. Little bolts of electricity running underneath the skin where Nathan is gingerly, delicately touching her. She immediately feels dizzy. Almost feverish.

Nathan's touch is always so… warm and so… wonderfully Nathan.

It seemed fitting. She had come to name that nameless electric, buzz-y, giddy feeling after Nathan. Haley only feels that way whenever she's near him.

Haley slowly swallows, silently staring up at Nathan, whose face is creased with concern.

"Haley, are you okay? Tell me where it hurts." He's voice is oddly pleading, almost cracking at the word 'hurt'.

"I… I'm fine. I just…"

"What is it baby?"

"I feel funny." Her voice had become hoarse. Wispy-sounding. Her hand closes around a fistful of Nathan's shirt, pulling him closer to her.

Nathan stiffens a little, as though finally figuring out that she's not exactly hurt. Just drunk. "I am going to kill Brooke," Nathan murderously mutters. The anger in his voice is evident, even though his touch is just as gentle as ever. "I told her not to make you drink anything."

Haley closes her eyes, trying to still her madly beating heart. She shakes her head, suddenly feeling shy at how weak she must look like right now. She wets her lips, swallowing hard before turning her face away. "Brooke didn't… she didn't make me drink anything." She takes a quick peek at Nathan, who's looking at her, his blue eyes intense. "It was… it was all me."

Nathan looks at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

She blinks up at him, realizing that she's said too much. She wasn't supposed to confess this to him. Nathan will ask why and she'd have to explain it all and Haley just… she couldn't! It's too personal. Too raw.

"I- I'm fine. I'm okay." Haley tries to disentangle herself from Nathan's hold, which isn't easy, especially, since he's refusing to let her go. She lets out a small yelp of surprise as Nathan swoop her up in his arm, as though she was as light as feather. And when she's all cocooned inside Nathan's embrace, just like this, she feels exactly that way, like she could so easily float away, that there wasn't anything here on earth to anchor her down and she feels incredibly safe and cared for. She snuggles deeper into Nathan's reassuring embrace, staying quiet, as he makes his way towards her bed.

He has her room memorized already, Haley thinks, blushing. He's threading lightly on the floor, knowing where exactly the wooden boards would creak. He walks around her room as though he's been spending all of his life here, when in truth it has only been a couple of nights.

But… that was the whole point of her meltdown, wasn't it? Nathan Scott, spending a couple of nights in her bed. Who would've thought? Certainly not her. Not Lucas. Not Taylor. How in the world did little mousy, Haley James got Nathan Scott to notice her?

Nathan would always tell her how amazing she is and on good days, she believes him with all her heart. But tonight, that niggling, festering voice of doubt just wouldn't leave her alone. She hears echoes of disbelief and worst, even distrust, whenever Nathan would compliment her, leaning down to softly whisper in her ears how beautiful she looked in her blue dress, how she smells so wonderful. How much he wants her…

How could she when all around her, people were looking at her as though she was some misplaced item that Nathan was tugging along?

"Hales, baby, are you sure you're okay?" Nathan finally asks her as he settles himself on her bed, pulling her across his lap.

The smell of alcohol is strong but Haley isn't sure if it's her breath or Nathan's. Or theirs, combined.

Theirs. She definitely likes the sound of that. Sometimes, it scares her. Just how much she likes it. Being with Nathan. Being them. Hiding her face, she mumbles softly, cringing at how broken she sounds. "I'm sorry I drunk a little too much. I just... I thought maybe if I did I… I don't know, I'd be more fun?"

There's a brief silence from Nathan. She feels his sigh and reluctantly Haley pulls away, not wanting to hear what he has to say, not wanting to see his face when he agrees with her. She's surprised to feel his finger gently nudging her face up, forcing her to look at him. "Haley, what do you mean by that? You _are_ fun."

"Fun and funny isn't the same." Her grudging reply causes Nathan's eyebrow to twitch, a frown forming between his eyes.

The crease on Nathan's forehead deepens. "Haley, I don't understand, what's wrong?

"Nothing." She finally gets the strength to push herself out of Nathan's hold. She misses it immediately. Feeling suddenly cold, she wraps her arms around her shoulder, avoiding Nathan's stare. "It's stupid. I'm being stupid."

Nathan reaches out to pull her back to him, locking her inside two of his massive arms. "Of course you aren't." His breath, puffs of airs against her hair, sends another shiver down her spine. Nathan tightens his hold, "Something's bothering you, Haley. Tell me."

Haley merely shakes her head. How to voice out her ridiculous fears? She doesn't want Nathan to think of her as fragile. She isn't like this at all. Where was that sassy girl that she used to be? It was so easy before to just brush aside every mean thing Taylor had told her. It hadn't meant anything to her then. Now though, it pricked and prodded at her, reminding her that Nathan isn't actually known for dating boring girls. Girls who spend their time tutoring other people or doing stupid, dorky, goofy stuff with her best friend. What was her hold on him, especially now when it's quite obvious how strong his hold on her was?

And why is that tonight, of all night, Nathan decides to be extra sensitive, extra sweet. "Is there a reason why you can't tell me?"

"It's embarrassing."

Nathan lets out a small chuckle, sounding quite amused. When she squirmed against him, he realizes quickly that he wasn't supposed to laugh. Coughing then clearing his throat, Nathan tried again, this time, moving them so that they were lying side by side, her face inches away from his chest. He hooked his finger underneath her jaw, urging her to look at him. His eyes have turned serious, no longer laughing and amused. "Hales. I want you to tell me, especially if it's something that upsets you. Maybe I can fix it.

"You can't." Haley dejectedly mumbles.

"Can't what?"

"Fix it."

Nathan slightly pulls away, looking hurt. "I- I'm sorry," He lets out a rueful, short bark of laughter. "I guess…" He cringes, ducking his head, trying to hide from her searching eyes. "I know I'm not good at fixing things." Nathan lets out an explosive sigh, looking away for a moment and then staring back at her, a little belligerently, he adds: "Lucas is probably better at this… do you want me to go? Maybe you can talk to Luke instead and…"

Eyes widening, Haley quickly clutches at his arm. "No! Oh, Nathan, I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry, I… I just… it's me, okay? I felt… a little lonely tonight, that's all." Haley shrugs, trying to keep her voice light. "This is me, remember? I do strange sometimes."

His face scrunches up, trying to remember any instance from the party where he might have left her on her own. But there's none. Well, not when you'd count the times she went to the bathroom. "I… I'm not sure I follow you. Did I do something wrong tonight?"

"'S not your fault Nathan. Really it isn't."

Clenching his jaws, something finally clicking inside his mind, Nathan lets out a low growl. "Did anyone say something to you? Those cheerleaders? Brooke?"

Crap. She's not very good with this acting nonchalant thing. She'd fooled Lucas on some occasion. Why couldn't it work on Nathan too? Sighing, Haley shook her head. "No, not Brooke. Just forget about it, Nathan. It's nothing."

It's Nathan's turn to shake his head. "No. No way. No one says bad things about my girl! And if you're this upset, then it's definitely not nothing. Tell me. What did they say?" He asked, his body tensing.

"They said… I mean, I…it's not like I've never been… I mean, I'm kind of used to it, you know, girls being petty and mean and normally, I don't let it get to me, it's just… tonight's different." Hoping to distract Nathan from the fact that she had avoided answering his questions, Haley looked up to him and started stroking his chin, silently urging him to relax the tightly coiled and clenched muscles on his jaws. "I'll get over it. I promise."

Nathan stared down at her, flexing his arms so that her fingers ended up trailing against his mouth, instead of just his chin. He briefly kissed each digit before muttering darkly, "It's my fault. I shouldn't have brought you to that stupid party."

Haley rolls her eyes at this. She was being an insecure girlfriend – the kind she had promised never to be – and here he was blaming himself for it. "It's okay, really. In fact, let me think about this some more," she pauses, frowning, and then began nodding her head, "yeah, okay, there. I'm over it."

Nathan shot her a dubious look.

"I mean, I know I can't please everyone right? I'm just sorry that your friends don't like me that much."

Nathan's scowl visibly darkens. "They aren't my friends." The statement is said with unwavering conviction.

Haley starts shaking her head. Oh, no. They're not going to be the kind of couple who'd alienate each other's old friends. She isn't going to ask him of that. No way. Especially since most of those girls were girlfriends of Nathan's teammates. Granted that they'd probably break up before the school year ends and re-hook up with someone else, but so not that point. She's not going to get him into that kind of situation when he makes an outcast of himself just because his friends' girlfriend does not approve of her. "Of course they're your friends."

Nathan lets out a snort. "Well not anymore. They're not my friends if they can't see what I see in you. I'm not going to let them treat you that way. You're worth a million of them. They're just jealous 'cause you're hot and smart and you're better than all of them."

His impassioned declaration brought a rush of blood into her face, blushing intensely, Haley ducks her head and whispers in awe, "You think I'm hot?"

"Of course I think you're hot!" Nathan made it sound like it was the most obvious thing in the whole world and she was being ridiculously stubborn for not believing him. "What?" He growled at her when she continued to stare at him.

She blinked up at him, remember something. "That wasn't your phone on my back, a minute ago, was it?"

Nathan's eyes narrowed at her. "What are you talking about? I left my phone in the car."

Feeling the blush spread from her face to the roots of her hair and the tips of her toes, Haley groaned out load, covering her face with her hands. "Oh, God, you must think I'm such blabbering idiot tonight." Cringing, she sneaked a peek over Nathan's looming face, "I promise, tomorrow I'll be back to my normal self, so if we can like, forget we ever had this conversation, please?"

"Not likely." Nathan muttered, still seemingly confused at her weird moods and outbursts.

"Nathan," Haley whined, glaring at him, "it would really help my badly bruised ego."

Nathan raises his eyebrows at her. "I badly bruised your ego?" At her confused look, Nathan clarified his statement by rolling his eyes, "You thought it was a cell phone."

Haley gasped. "Well… what… what did you want me to think it was?"

Nathan gives her what could only be classified as a lecherous, almost predatory look. "I have a list." He intoned, his voice darkening once more.

"Oh, shut up." Grumbling at his ability to so easily embarrass her, Haley could only push herself away from him.

Nathan wasn't having that. "And where do you think you're going?"

"Ugh. Nowhere. Apparently." Haley narrows her eyes at him, "You're enjoying this aren't you? Me blabbering like an idiot."

Nathan looked slightly offended. "I don't think you're an idiot. I think you're cute."

Sweet talking, charming… ugh! "Oh, stop it!"

"Haley," Nathan began in a serious voice, taking Haley by surprise, "look at me." It was nothing short of a demand and Haley couldn't quite take her eyes off him anyway, the way he was looking at her now. "I know I'm not exactly known for being trustworthy and sincere…" Nathan began, shaking his head when Haley tried to interrupt him, "and I'm still learning all those things from you, which is just one of the many reasons why you are the most amazing girl I have ever been with and I want you to remember something, when I tell you how fucking sexy you are and how much I want you, I…"

Smiling through her watery eyes, Haley calmly placed her fingers against his lips. "I believe you." Her voice had changed too. Warmer now. Softer. Less drunk-y sounding. She giggled at that. A little.

Nathan leaned down, rubbing his nose against her. "Good. And you better."

Kissing the tip of Nathan's nose, Haley sighed, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry I was being so-"

"You're being you and I like all of you so don't apologize for it, okay?"

"Okay." She mumbled, suddenly feeling sleepy now. It felt nice, having been able to open up to him this way and hearing him say those words, it calmed her fears. No matter how irrational they had been, Haley was glad that Nathan could be as honest with her as she was with him. If they can promise to always be open, to always say whatever it was in their hearts… then everything else didn't matter anymore. The whole world can oppose this budding romance between them, but it wouldn't change anything.

She was falling for him and it looks as though Nathan was too.

It was both a heady, scary feeling. One that she'd probably freak out about… but maybe tomorrow, in the morning…yawning, she snuggled deeper into Nathan's arm. "Stay." She murmured, about the only word she's capable of saying.

She never heard Nathan's reply, just felt his arms tightening around her and the gentle, wonderful soft kiss he had dropped on her forehead.

-end-


	4. Drabble 4 Nathan

**Three A.M. **  
by **Grace** (purplemud)  
**Summary**: Nathan Scott does not like to feel threatened.  
**Rating**: T/4  
**Pairing**: Naley  
**Disclaimers**: Standard disclaimers apply. Me don't own.  
**Author's Note**: A sort of (old) scribble. No plot at all.

**Spoilers**: Seasons 1 and 2.

**Nathan**

Nathan Scott does not like to feel threatened.

When he feels like someone is trying to take what is rightfully his, he fights back. He throttles whatever or whoever it is that dares to come between him and his goal. He is out for blood and he isn't the type to make small warnings. This may sound unreasonable, but this knee-jerk reaction is ingrained in his genes; he is a Scott after all. And if there's one thing Scott men are known for, it's their relentlessness when it comes to protecting what is theirs.

At any sign of breach on his territory, no matter how slight it may be, Nathan attacks almost immediately. It had worked exceptionally well and over the years; he had established almost complete, total ownership – if not the school, at least Tree Hill's basketball team. Whatever delusions Whitey might have, Nathan knows that he has full control of the team. The court was his territory. Outsiders were vigilantly kept away.

And then things went crashing down on him when his usual stratagem of bullying and intimidation did not work when he had tried kicking Lucas out of the team. His older brother had one weapon that he had not been prepared for: Haley James.

Nathan had realized late in the game that he was way off his league and there was no way he could fight off his feelings towards Haley James. It had grown and deepened without his knowledge until it was too late to deny that he was attracted to Lucas' bestfriend and most staunch defender. It was a losing battle, one he was surprisingly willing to lose.

It was her eyes, her smile, the way she tilted her head, arched her eyebrows, absentmindedly twirled her hair; it was her loyalty, her kindness, the way she looked at him and knew exactly when he was spewing off his usual crap. It was the second chance that she had given him, even if he didn't deserve it. It was everything about her that got him. And it got him real bad. He had not expected that he'd be so into her that everything else had taken the backseat: the game, his dad's almost maniacal campaign against Lucas and Lucas' pathetic obsession with his then girlfriend Peyton.

The moment Nathan realized that he wanted Haley more than he wanted to punish Lucas for being his bastard brother, Nathan knew it was over. He's going to have to accept Lucas into the team, if he wanted to get Haley into his good side. His father can wage his war against Lucas by himself, Nathan was done with it. Let him in on the team, for fuck's sake. In Nathan's opinion, as long as Lucas' wasn't playing like a stupid ass, then everything was bearable. Plus, the more Lucas played for the Ravens, the more he'd be able to watch Haley, even it was just from afar, even if she wouldn't have anything to do with him.

As it turns out, he didn't really have to worry about Haley ignoring him for the rest of his sorry existence. Nathan was more than pleasantly surprised (in fact, to be precise, he was blown away) that his feelings for Haley were returned. Unbelievable as it may sound, she cared for him too. And ever since he had fallen in love with her, his relentless, territorial obsession had been shifted off-court and on to her.

This was new to him, because he hadn't been particularly possessive when it came to Peyton. Well, not until Lucas made it obvious that he was head-over-heels in love with Peyton. Looking back, Nathan was certain that he had only reacted so strongly because it was Lucas. He figured if he had been anyone else, he probably wouldn't have cared so much. He might have even made a deal with Peyton to go see other guys so he could see other girls without feeling remorseful. And, yes, okay? He was that kind of a bastard.

With Haley, it was different. He was certain that he didn't want to share her with anyone. And even if it was ridiculous, he admits to fits of jealousy whenever Haley was around the Rivercourt guys. Including that kid Mouth. Laugh all you want, but it was a pretty unpleasant feeling every time he saw one of the guys grinning down at her and pulling her for a quick (mostly, five to eight seconds) hug. So he counted, so what? That was his girl being manhandled by some dude that he knew wasn't in anyway intimidated by him. Worst was Lucas who wanted and demanded time with Haley. Like he owned her or something. Every time Lucas would take Haley away from Nathan for roof top golf or any other stupid activity his loser brother had somehow roped Haley in, Lucas would give him that: I found her first look.

It was childish and really, really annoying. All Nathan wanted to do was erase that squinting, challenging look on Lucas's face, knock him out cold, step over him and take Haley away, far, far from the evil clutches of his needy brother.

He did nothing of the sort. Instead, he stood there arms crossed as Haley gave him a quick good bye kiss on the cheeks (Haley's rule of never kissing in front of Lucas, less they hurt his very, very sensitive feelings). Nathan settled for giving Lucas the glare of death over Haley's head. And as soon as she pulled back, he'd give a non-committal grunt, quietly watching as his bastard brother walked away, sometimes arm-in-arm with _his _girlfriend. This happens every damn day, with alarm bells ringing inside his head, a voice urging him to run after them and shake Lucas' senseless: find a girlfriend of your own! Stop hogging _my_ girlfriend's time! She is mine!

He tamped down those urges and learned to let out his frustration on court. Or sometimes on Tim. It could not be helped. Tim had a way of grating on his nerves, especially when he'd start spewing off theories on the nature of Haley and Lucas's relationship. (_It's not a "relationship", Tim! They're just friends! Go fuck yourself and leave me alone!_ )

And so, in strange twist of fate, Haley (sometimes, even the mere presence of her voice inside his head) had effectively calmed him down. She had done what so many people (mainly his mom and Peyton) had been trying, but fantastically failed at doing: rein him in, make him see what a jackass he had been all these years, make him want to change, become a better person.

With Haley, she didn't have to tell him anything. She didn't give him a list of things he ought and ought not to do. She trusted that he'd know what to do and that he would the right thing. He craved the wonderful smile she'd give him every time he did something nice – not just for her, but for anyone. Nothing else mattered to him but Haley's approval of his behavior.

Her calming effect on him had brought on a change in his attitude and without his noticing, his instinct to crush and break first, ask questions later had been somewhat curbed. He had learned to take a deep breath before raising a fist. He had learned to pause for a second or two, assess things first and try to see it in Haley's eyes. Every time he's faced with the urge to kick someone's face in, he'd stop for a few second and wonder: what would Haley think?

Most of the time, he'd find himself erring on the safe side and being almost, well…_kind_ there's no other term for it. Kindness is a new thing to him and he's beginning to associate kindness with that proud, 'that's my man' look from Haley James-Scott which he treasures more than any of championship and MVP trophies that he had collected over the years of playing basketball. He loves seeing that look: it lights up her whole face. She smiles at him and he feels a strange sense of invincibility. He knows that everything is right as long as Haley is giving him that smile. And also, immediately after that smile was a guaranteed mind blowing kiss. There was nothing in the world that motivates him into greatness other than Haley's kiss.

It's becoming easier for him to become the kind of man that can and _will_ make Haley happy. He felt good about that. He liked that feeling. A lot.

Although, recent events had been testing his new-found patience. First there was that jackass Felix who Nathan had wanted to pummel into the ground the second he realized that the lecherous smirk was directed at his wife. He had nearly jumped him in the hallways. If Haley hadn't pulled him towards her, leaning her body, curving it into his so that it's clear as daylight that she is his, Nathan would have fed the newcomer prime Tree Hill High pavement.

He had felt a twinge of suspicious relief when he found out that Felix was after Brooke Davis. He can't imagine anyone more suitable for Brooke. Felix was like a male Brooke and Brooke was like a female Felix and as long as Felix kept his eyes and distance away from Haley, Nathan was more than happy to be cool and mellow.

Things had only started to settle down over at Tree Hill. Or at least Nathan had assumed that was the case: as of tonight, Taylor was officially out of their apartment, Peyton seems happy with Jake, Brooke is busy trying to stage a hostile take-over the school, Felix had left Haley alone and Lucas wasn't in some sort of complicated love triangle. Other than the fact that Lucas is now living with Dan (which Nathan can deal with by pretending that Lucas had gone off to get himself lobotomized) everything was going to be fine.

Until Chris Keller arrived, singing his way into Tric. The new mellowed-out, kinder Nathan Scott does not apply to Chris Keller. He sees Keller and the first thing that goes through his head is the red hot urge to bury the stupid motherfucker who had the nerve to get up on stage and dedicate some cocky-assed song to his wife. Nathan isn't dumb. He had closely listened to the lyrics, because if there's anything that he had learned from Peyton, it's that lyrics are important.

Nathan briefly wonders what sort of moron would want to face Nathan Scott's wrath. Apparently, Keller was that sort of moron. He glances at Haley from the corner of his eyes as she nervously bites her lips. She seems unbearably uncomfortable and when she suggested that they leave, Nathan knows that he should have said yes. But he didn't. Because Taylor had come in sauntering towards them and in her irritating voice, had asked who the stud was.

Nathan remembers the sinking feeling he had felt on his chest when he'd been talking to Haley just this morning asking her if she had kissed the stupid fucker, whose face he's set to ruin in a few more minutes. Haley had said no, she didn't kiss Keller and her words were enough to let air come into his lungs once again. He could breathe again.

At this very instant, though, Nathan feels the same heaviness settling deep inside his chest. And once again, he feels his heart constricting painfully. He eyes Keller on stage and thinks of how far he can throw a bottle of beer. If he put all of his strength in it, it's possible he can hit him right in the head but Nathan decides against it. He didn't want to take his chances. He watches as Keller strums his guitar and then, as though Keller is aware of the thoughts going inside Nathan's head, he turns over to their side and gives Haley a long, knowing look.

That was it. That was what had snapped Nathan's patience. He could no longer curb the urge to inflict some sort of bodily harm against Keller. Right there, in front of him, in front of everyone, Keller had stepped into his territory and is stupidly singing for his wife. It's a fuckingly obvious invitation to get his scrawny assed kicked. And Nathan is more than happy to oblige. He leaves Haley's side and wonders if hitting Keller with a guitar would be an effective enough message for the stupid bastard: _stay away from my wife! _

* * *

Walking around Tree Hill at something past three in the morning, Nathan is confused and unsure of where is he. He doesn't know how he ended up here. Or more importantly, how things had ended up so badly.

_Haley had kissed Chris_.

Everything around him had darkened, had become small. Squeezing him in. For a moment, he didn't know how to breathe. He didn't know how to exist. And then he had stormed out of their apartment and into the blackness of Tree Hill. It didn't comfort him and Nathan had a sinking suspicion that nothing ever will. Not when something inside of him had been wrenched free. Dislodged. His heart. Or something precious. Like maybe trust, or fuck it, everything. Everything around him is unfamiliar. Strange. He feels lost.

Nathan looks around and is astonished to find himself at their spot at the docks. This is theirs. His and Haley's. Everything about them is rooted to this very spot. And then he feels a sudden wave of fear deep in his gut. Panic seizes him, he feels as though he's been punched in the chest with iron fists. He feels his heart - he's surprised to find it still there - falters.

What had he done?

He takes a step back, turns around and runs for his life. His runs towards home. He runs towards Haley and he prays that he isn't too late. That he will find her waiting for him.

The sound of his own ragged breathing, the wind whistling past him, his own footsteps hammering against the pavement, it wasn't enough to drown out the sound of his own voice, small and frightened, the first time he'd ever heard it that way and it's telling him: it's too late. She's gone.


End file.
